


This House Just Ain't a Home

by Catclaw



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-20
Updated: 2007-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-09 09:28:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/772639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catclaw/pseuds/Catclaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a night saying goodbye to Alec, things between Jim and Blair deteriorate after Jim hears something he shouldn’t have.<br/>Written for the Sen 'Get a Clue' fic-a-thon.  Prompt was: 'Alec Summers in the Loft with a flowery apron.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	This House Just Ain't a Home

“What the fuck are you wearing?” The sentence was broken up by laughter and tears streamed down his cheeks as Alec stared at Blair. The pair had become fast friends after the ‘incident’ with the spiders and Alec was spending the evening in the Loft for a farewell dinner whilst Jim was on a stakeout.  
“This,” Blair declared, twirling, wooden spoon in hand, “is the apron my mom left when she was here last. Jim tells me it’s flattering.” He had been trying for deadpan, but the smile he was unsuccessfully trying to repress gave him away completely.  
“It’s a flowery monstrosity is what it is!” Laughter rang out through the Loft as Blair lost the battle with his amusement, acquiescing to Alec’s opinion.

Taking a deep breath, Alec pulled together the courage to ask Blair something he had noticed earlier on.  
“You love him, don’t you?” Blair froze, eyes focused determinedly on the white sauce simmering in front of him, denials upon his tongue that he couldn’t seem to force past his lips. Behind him Alec smiled, taking Blair’s silence for an answer in the affirmative, and if he was right about Blair, though to be honest he was rarely ever wrong, then he was right about Jim and the two were in love. “Blair?” He prodded gently when the grad student’s silence began to worry him.

Jim stomped up the stairs to the Loft. The stake-out had been a fucking bust, he’d been given the wrong information and the deal had gone down some place that wasn’t where he was. The lift, as usual, wasn’t working and all he wanted to do was crash out, watch some mindless TV and go to bed. Reaching the door to 307 Jim froze, tensing automatically as he heard one very familiar heartbeat doing double time, a second heartbeat also present.

“Is it that obvious?” The anxiety was clear in Blair’s voice, whatever the question had been it clearly worried Blair deeply. He was reaching to put his key in the lock, intent on giving his Guide his support when he heard Blair’s voice again. “Jim would be furious if he knew, he’d kick me out for sure.”

Jim frowned, puzzled, he couldn’t think of anything that would make him force Blair to leave the Loft. The second voice spoke up, sounding very hesitant. “So, he doesn’t love you back? You two aren’t together?” The voice sounded genuinely surprised that he was wrong.  
“Please, James ‘straighter-than-an-arrow’ Ellison love this neo-hippie? I don’t think so man.” There was such pain in Blair’s words that it almost killed him to hear it. But at the same time, he couldn’t help the hasty retreat he was making. He needed a drink. Or five.

*

Jim glared at the light, or at least as much as he could through half open eyes, cursing the amount he had to drink the night before; the bartender for serving him; and the stool he had been sitting on - just for good measure. His head felt like a stamped of elephants had recently passed through it and no amount of trying to dial his senses down was stopping the blinding light from hurting his eyes. He suspected that they were simply not listening to him. In fact, they were downright disobeying him as his hearing automatically tuned into Blair, the very person he was trying not to think about.

The grad student was humming some small innocuous tune under his breath, but Jim could still hear him clear as day. His eyes followed his ears in time to see a smiling Blair step out of his room, the grin widening as he laid eyes on Jim, though it would have been imperceptible to anyone other than a Sentinel.  
“How was the stakeout?” With his ears still attuned to Blair’s humming, he was unprepared for the loudness of Blair’s voice as he spoke and he winced as the words jarred his already aching head, something Blair noticed straight away. “You alright Big Guy?” Jim nodded, mumbling something about his senses, not wanting Blair to know he was hung over from spending the night drinking.

Almost as soon as the words had left his mouth he regretted them, Blair was standing close to him, reaching out to touch his arm, asking questions a mile a minute. He tried to stop it, honestly he did, but the moment Blair’s hand landed on his arm he flinched away from the touch. Hurt flickered briefly across Blair’s eyes as he rapidly drew back his hand . Part of Jim felt guilty about it, but the rest of him insisted that that bit shut up and be grateful that Blair wasn’t touching him anymore.

Work wasn’t any better, and the other detectives noticed that something was wrong between the two. Gone were the casual touches that had practically defined their relationship - the only time that Jim could stand Blair’s touch was when it was grounding his senses and only then because he knew he had no other choice.

Jim become increasingly distant and more often than not his nights would be spent in an alcoholic daze, his bad temper made worse by raging hangovers. Blair, on the other hand, withdrew into himself. Gone was the bounce and the huge grins, though he was determined to find out what was making his Sentinel behave the way he was.

*

“Schim’n?” Jim’s head swung to the side and he gazed blearily up at the imposing man standing next to him, he eyebrows furrowed together as his mind worked frantically to decide if the other man was really Simon, or if it was someone that looked like him.

The big man nodded down at him before settling onto the stool next to the drunken detective. “What are you doing here Jim?” Jim gave him a look that clearly questioned Simon’s intelligence, if he had to ask such a question. Or at least he tried to, the actual expression looked more like he was going to throw up.

“You know what I mean,” Simon shook his head, Jim was a fool. “Why aren’t you home with Sandburg, fixing whatever’s caused this mess?”  
“Can’t.” Jim’s face took on a sad yet disgusted expression.  
“Why not?”  
“’Cause,” even Jim could hear the drunken petulance in his voice. Simon rolled his eyes, he’d had enough of watching his best team fall apart and seeing his friends make themselves miserable.  
“C’mon, I’m taking you home.” Jim opened his mouth to argue but Simon cut him off. “Either you come with me now or I will find a beat cop to escort you back.” His voice was firm and he stood, holding a hand out to Jim and then leading his wobbly detective out to his car.

The moment they pulled up outside Prospect both men knew something was out of place, but they couldn’t put their finger on it. Jim gratefully declined Simon’s offer to take him up to the Loft, he’d managed before and would do so again.

The Loft was eerily quiet. Hesitantly sending out his senses Jim found no trace of Blair, in fact it seemed that the student hadn’t been there for most of the day. He shrugged, Blair was probably caught up in some anthro thing. Whatever the younger man was doing, Jim was sure he’d hear about it in the morning.

*

It was the rain that did it. The thunder had woken him and the sound of the rain made his bladder stand up and pay attention. If he didn’t get out of bed that instant he was going to be a very sorry Sentinel.

Stumbling into the kitchen after relieving himself, Jim stared at the open French doors to Blair’s room, puzzled as it seemed empty. Worried, he marched into the room only to stop in shock. Other than a fading scent in the air, there was no trace that Blair had ever been there.

Falling heavily onto the futon he put his head in his hands. His Guide was gone. The part of him that had felt guilty all those weeks ago spoke up with a vengeance. Blair had been right, though he hadn’t kicked Blair out, instead he had pushed him away to the point where the younger man had believed he had no other choice but to leave.

What had he done?

The weeks passed and Jim did his best to put on a show around his fellow detectives, claiming he was much happier now Blair had gone but they all knew it wasn’t true, and they all missed the Jim they had come to know, the one that smiled and wasn’t a grouch almost as much as they missed Blair himself.

Every day Jim would stop by Rainer and look to see if Blair was teaching or in lessons. Eventually the staff got fed up of seeing him there and told him that if Blair were to return he would be notified immediately, but as far as they were concerned, however, he was taking an extended leave of absence.

He’d put an all points bulletin out on Blair’s car, but so far nothing had been reported and none of the hospitals had admitted the student.

Jim began to wish that he’d never have to go back to the Loft. The rooms seemed hollow in some strange way. He tried to tell himself that he didn’t care. After all, the clutter was gone, there were no wet towels on the bathroom floor and he had as much hot water as he wanted, but he didn’t believe himself. The truth was that the place was empty.

But it was the silence that was killing him. He missed Blair constant chatter, the sound of his voice. Missed the sound of Blair typing, of him doing normal every day things. Hell, he even missed the younger man’s music.

He missed the sound of Blair’s heartbeat. The calming, soothing repetitive beating. Every night as he tried in vain to sleep he would automatically try and tune in on that sound. And every time he couldn’t find it, it was like losing Blair all over again.

Sitting at the kitchen table, forcing himself to eat, his eyes roamed the Loft, settling, finally, on an apron hidden innocuously in the corner. The sight of it brought tears to his eyes. The Loft just wasn’t a home anymore. God Blair, come home.

It wasn’t as dramatic as lightening striking but it was with a startling clarity that the realisation hit him. He loved Blair. He was in love with Blair and he had to find him, even if it killed him.

*

In the end it took over a month to track Blair down but sheer determination and a chance phone call lead him to the man he loved. As it turned out Blair had been staying with his mother at a vineyard in California. Jim’s guilt increased as female voice on the other end of the line told him that Blair knew he hadn’t been on a stake out that night. Blair was a smart man, he’d put two and two together and figured Jim had overheard what had been said.

Jim drove through the night, finally arriving at the vineyard a few hours after sunrise. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door, praying Blair answered it. Luck was with him and he stood staring at him, drinking in the sight of the younger man. He truly was beautiful.

Blair, for his part, was frozen in shock. He hadn’t expected Jim to come looking for him, he’d taught Simon enough about Sentinels that he should have been able to help him, so it wasn’t that he needed a Guide. After the way Jim had reacted to finding out that he was in love with him, he certainly wasn’t expecting to see him again.

Suddenly wary, he tensed, almost as though he were preparing for Jim to strike him. Sadness flashed across Jim’s features and he slowly reached out, intending to cup Blair‘s cheek, but his nerves failed him at the last second and he settled for squeezing Blair‘s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry.” They were still in the open, anyone could hear them, but Jim couldn’t bring himself to care. This needed to be said, it couldn’t wait, he couldn’t wait, any delay and he might not say everything. Blair deserved to know the truth. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away like I did. I was scared, I guess.”  
“I get it man, fear based response.” Blair shrugged, he didn’t feel the need to elaborate. If all Jim was here for was to apologise, there was no need. Blair had already forgiven him, but it was just making it harder, seeing him there and not being able to touch him.

Jim could see that it wasn’t going as well as he’d hoped, but then, why had he expected otherwise? He was terrible with words. Action was more his style, so he relented. Gently encouraging Blair to move forward with the hand cupped around his face, Jim closed the distance between them and placed a soft kiss to his lips.  
“I love you.”

Okay, so it wasn’t the best time for that particular declaration and the doubt was clear in Blair’s eyes, after all, he had freaked out when he’d discovered that Blair was in love with him, it was time to explain his sudden about face. He opened his mouth to speak but Blair cut him off, tugging him inside the house and sitting him in a spacious lounge over looking the vineyard itself.

“I know this must seem sudden to you. Hell, I surprised myself. I didn’t realise how much I’d miss you, how much you’d become a part of my life until you were gone. The Loft was empty. I was empty. It’s only a home because you’re there and when you weren’t…” Jim trailed off, suddenly deeply unsure of what to say next. He’d said all that he’d come here to say. Almost. “Please come home.”

Blair stared at him, where the hell had that come from? Where was the Jim Ellison he knew? The repressed bastard that would kick his ass at a moment’s notice? Where was the man that was Godawful at expressing himself? But more importantly,  
“Are you gonna change your mind the moment I get back? Will it go back to the way it was before when all this wears off?”  
“No!” Jim ducked his head, embarrassed at his shout of denial. “No. I love you. The only thing that’ll change when _we_ get _home_ will be your sleeping arrangements.”

Blair’s smile could have lit the blackest of nights and he practically threw himself into Jim’s arms. Only time would tell if Jim would be able to keep his promise and whether or not everything would work out. Blair had learnt enough over the years to know that this wasn’t the type of chance that you threw away just in case something went wrong. You have to take chances in your life. After taking a moment to clear his head, he did just that, dipping his head down to kiss Jim. Breathless seconds later they broke apart and Blair rested his forehead against Jim’s.  
“I love you too.” It was barely more than a whisper, but Jim’s ears caught it anyway, and to them, it was better than the sweetest music.


End file.
